The Golden Lion and the Silver Dragon
by Reine Qual
Summary: Re-posted -- AU: Both Harry and Draco are abused as children, both are prophesied to wield great power. But with their horrible pasts and beaten and bloody souls, which side will they fight for? Slash later on.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters of Harry Potter. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I am not making any money from this story, I'm just writing for my amusement.  
  
**Warnings:** Slash in later chapters, which means an m/m relationship if you didn't know. Also violence, child abuse, gore, and adult language. Rating may go up, although probably much farther into the story. Possibly spoilers for all five books.  
  
Please review, but bear in mind this is my first story.

* * *

**Prologue **- _Unloved   
_  
Harry Potter lay on his cot in the cupboard under the stairs, curled up in a little ball underneath a thin, ratty blanket.  
  
Five years ago, on Halloween, he had been left on his only living family's doorstep when he was barely fifteen months old.  
  
The Dursleys', Vernon, Petunia and their son Dudley, for some reason hated Harry, and he didn't know why.  
  
They made his life as miserable as possible, he was forced to do all the chores, and Dudley had never lifted a finger in his short life, he was fed just enough food so he wouldn't pass out from malnutrition, while Dudley was twice the size of other kids his age. He didn't know much about his parents' except that they were dead, he didn't even know how they died.  
  
Harry looked nothing like the Dursleys, Vernon was big and beefy with hardly any neck, Petunia was blonde, horse-faced and bony with a rather long neck, and Dudley looked like his father, but had blonde hair like his mother, instead of Vernon's black.  
  
Harry had jet-black hair that was never straight, he was short and skinny with gorgeous green eyes behind black framed glasses. The oddest thing about Harry was not how quiet he was or how shy, but a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. The kids at school made fun of it, as they made fun of everything else about him, his wild hair, broken glasses and baggy clothes.  
  
Dudley just made it worse, any time somebody would show even the smallest sign of being nice to Harry, Dudley would beat them up and they would never go near Harry again. So Harry was all alone and nobody loved him. Or at least that's what he thought.

**Hundreds of miles away . . .**

The little boy whimpered and drew his knees closer to his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as the expensive leather shoe cut deeply into his thin back once more. His father hated shows of weakness.  
  
"That will teach you to never talk back to me." His father hissed angrily and kicked his son in the back again. The man then picked the child up off the floor by the collar of his blood stained robes and back handed the tiny pale face. "Now go to your room, Draco." He released his son's robes and the boy stumbled before finding his footing. His father left without a backwards glance, so the man missed the look of pure hatred on the child's face.  
  
Exiting the cold chamber several minutes after his father, Draco slowly, and unsteadily, climbed the stairs to his room, where he collapsed on his bed. He moaned in pain and tried to roll back up into a ball, but his back hurt too much to move. So, he just lay there unmoving as the silent tears poured down his cheeks. He wished somebody was there to comfort him and love him.  
But his father had told him he didn't need love, emotions are a weakness, and Malfoys are not weak. He didn't need love. He was a Malfoy.

* * *

**Chapter 1**- _Five years later._   
  
Harry crawled out of his cupboard at his Aunt's yelling.  
  
"I'm coming!" He shouted back to her and the yelling stopped. He sighed quietly and walked into the kitchen. His aunt was standing by the window, watching the neighbor's house. When he closed the door, she turned around to look at him and frowned.  
  
"Hurry up, boy!" She snapped and jerked her head towards the stove. "Cook breakfast and don't burn anything, everything must be perfect for Dudley's birthday."  
  
Harry winced and got out the cooking utensils. Dudley's birthday, of course everything had to be perfect. Harry rolled his eyes and set about making breakfast for his _"family"._ He carefully cracked the eggs over the pan, turned the bacon over so it wouldn't be blackened on one side, and watched the sagauges sizzle.  
As he was setting the plates on the table, his uncle and cousin walked in. "Oh, happy birthday, Dinky Duddydums!" Aunt Petunia exclaimed happily and hugged her fat son. "You're getting so big." She said tearfully.  
  
For once Harry agreed with his aunt, Dudley was _Big_. Harry used to think that the pictures of his cousin when he was younger looked like a pig in a wig, but now he felt sorry for having insulted the pigs all over the world that wore wigs.  
  
"Yes, he certainly is turning into a fine young man." Uncle Vernon said proudly. Then his small beady eyes swiveled to Harry, in his three sizes too large clothes, unruly hair, and taped glasses, and his face darkened, lips twisting into a sneer.  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow, he knew wasn't all that much to look at, but he sort of felt happy knowing that if his Uncle thought _Dudley_ was a "fine young man" then that must mean he is the opposite of Dudley. 

Thank God.  
  
"What are you staring at, boy?" His uncle demanded, his face growing red.  
  
"Nothing, sir." Harry answered calmly and went to the fridge to get the orange juice. The Dursleys sat down at the table and Dudley started to count his presents which where piled up by his chair. His face fell. "Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."  
  
"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy." Aunt Petunia said soothingly.  
  
"All right, thirty-seven then," Dudley said, going red in the face, just like his father did. Harry watched this and tried to keep the disgusted look off his face as he poured their drinks. He never got anything for his birthday and here was his cousin, who could have anything he wanted, complaining that he got one less present than the year before. _One!_ Spoiled brat.  
  
"And we'll buy you another_ two_ presents while we're out today. How's that, Popkin? _Two_ more presents. Is that all right?" Aunt Petunia calmed Dudley, looking slightly fearfully that her son might turn the table over in his tantrum if he didn't get want he wanted.  
Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty . . . thirty . . ."  
  
"Thirty-nine, Sweetums." Aunt Petunia supplied.  
  
"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and started eating along with his parents. "All right then." He said while shoveling food down his throat.  
Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.  
  
Harry quickly turned to the sink so his relatives wouldn't see his smirk. He grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter and washed it before taking a bite.  
  
He leaned one elbow on the counter and gazed out the window, tuning out the Dursley's conversation as he munched on his breakfast. He was lost in his thoughts about a strange dream he had last night. He had the dream before but he didn't understand why he would be having a recurring dream about a flying motorcycle and flashes of green light.  
  
He knew that recurring dreams usually meant something, but flying motorcycles? He didn't have a clue where that came from. And the green light? He shook his head, it was just some silly dream. He continued to stare outside until his uncle smacked him around his head, causing his elbow to slip and him to bite his tongue.  
  
Clamping a hand to his mouth, Harry waited for the stinging pain to go away. He looked at Vernon through watery eyes to see what he had done wrong.  
  
"Well?" His uncle frowned.  
  
Harry swallowed, tasting blood, and lowered his hand. "Excuse me, sir?"  
  
"The dishes won't clean themselves!" Uncle Vernon shouted and pointed to the table. "And clean up the wrapping paper from Dudley's gifts."  
  
"Yes, sir. I'll do it right away." Harry said hastily and backed away from his uncle, out of striking distance.  
  
Vernon snorted and stalked out of the kitchen. Harry sighed and glanced around the kitchen. The Durselys were already done eating and Dudley had opened all his presents, and now all the paper was strewn across the floor. Before leaving, Aunt Petunia snapped him to take all of her "precious Dinky Duddydums" presents up to his room, and don't break anything. Dudley just grinned nastily and went to get dressed.  
  
Harry sighed inwardly and gathered the dirty dishes from the table. Putting the plates and glasses in the sink, he turned on the tap, so the water could get hot. He rolled up his sleeves and put the stopper in the bottom of the sink. Slowly it filled with hot water and Harry started scrubbing the dishes with a rag.  
  
Just when he finished and was heading up stairs to Dudley's room, with his cousin's new video camera, wristwatch, remote control airplane, and VCR, the telephone rang. Pausing outside the sitting room, Harry listened to his aunt answering the phone.  
  
"Hello, Dursley residence . . . oh, Jess, it's nice to hear from you. How is your family? . . . Goodness, is she all right? . . . Oh, dear . . . no, no it's all right, you just make sure she gets better . . . yes, all right . . . good-bye."  
  
From the hallway Harry heard Aunt Petunia slamming the receiver down. "Vernon!" She called and Harry climbed the stair swiftly, his aunt sounded angry and he didn't want to find out how Uncle Vernon would take it.  
  
"Yes, dear?" Vernon said as he entered the room. Harry strained his ears to hear their voices but they were speaking too quietly.  
Harry shrugged and opened Dudley's bedroom door (which was rather hard due to his full arms), hoping that whatever his relatives were talking about had nothing to do with him.  
  
He couldn't remember doing anything wrong, but Dudley usually pinned things on him at school, and with Harry's record already not so clean, everybody believed him. Harry couldn't explain the things he did and the teachers thought he was a liar and all around troublemaker despite his excellent grades and his good behavior in class.  
  
Harry was known as a freak at school, most of the kids were scared of him because of the things he did.  
  
Like one time Dudley's gang had been beating on him and their class had gathered around to watch, then suddenly Dudley and his friends had been thrown back about ten feet. After that he was avoided like he had the plague.  
  
Standing in front of his wardrobe, Dudley was putting on his jacket. He sneered when Harry stumbled in, not bothering to help his cousin with the items he was struggling to carry.  
  
"Boy!"  
  
Harry jumped at the sound and hurriedly dumped Dudley gifts on his bed. He ran down the stairs and skidded to a halt just inside the sitting room. "Yes, uncle Vernon?"  
  
"Get ready to go." Vernon grounded out.  
  
Harry got a confused look on his face. "What?"  
  
"That was Jess, Mrs. Figg's nurse, she said that Mrs. Figg broke her leg and can't watch you. So, get in the bloody car, we're not leaving you here by yourself."  
  
"Um, ok." Harry said, totally shocked. This would be the first time he spent the day somewhere other than school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling house.  
  
Harry went to the cupboard under the stairs and grabbed his worn coat. He closed the door just as the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of Piers Polkiss, Dudley's best friend. Piers was a small, rat-faced boy with greasy brown hair and small brown eyes. He was the one who usually held people's arms behind their backs as Dudley hit them.  
  
Ten minutes later, Harry, Dudley, and Piers were sitting in the back of Vernon's car, driving towards the zoo. Harry sat on the right, behind uncle Vernon, with Dudley in the middle and Peirs on the left.  
  
Glancing over at Dudley and Piers, who were whispering quietly with their heads together, Harry wondered if he hadn't been better off begging his aunt and uncle to stay at home, even if that meant being locked outside all day. Dudley and Piers started snickering and as one looked at Harry. They grinned at each other and went back to their whispering.  
  
Harry sighed. He wish he was back in his cupboard doing his homework or reading one of the books he stole from Dudley's second bedroom, the room there they kept all of Dudley's broken toys and things that he never used, like books. Piers laughed at something Dudley said while staring at Harry.  
Harry sighed again and leaned his head against the window. God, it was going to be a long day.

* * *

"Master Draco?" A timid voice said and lightly touched the bundle of blankets on the bed, which stirred slightly. "Master Draco."  
  
Slowly, from under the blankets, a pale face peeked out. "Morning, Dobby." The blond yawned and sat up. "Good morning, Master Draco. Your mother sent Dobby to wake you up, sir."  
  
Draco crawled out of bed and walked to his bathroom, Dobby at his heels. As he brushed he teeth, Dobby turned on the shower and fetched clean cloths from Draco's wardrobe.  
  
After bathing, Draco pulled on a pair of tailored black trouser and black silk shirt before putting on his midnight blue robes. He walked down-stairs with Dobby and into the dining room where his mother was already seated at the long table.  
  
"Good morning, mother." Draco said and briefly kissed her cheek before sitting across from her.  
  
"Draco." She returned coolly, slightly inclining her head.  
  
"Where's Father?" He questioned as the house-elves appeared with their food.  
  
"He was called into work early today." She answered shortly.  
Neither one said anything else all through breakfast.  
  
After he was done eating, Draco walked back up to his room and sat on the window seat, looking out over the back lawns of Malfoy Manor.  
  
He leaned his head against the glass and sighed, watching one of his Father's exotic animals, a manticore, swishing its tail as it paced back and forth in its cage.  
  
Draco frowned and turned his eyes somewhere else. He hated his Father's illegal "pets."  
  
Not just because his Father having them was against the law, but also because he had had too many up-close experiences with them. He shuddered.  
  
About a three years ago, Draco had refused to kill his springer spaniel puppy, Kai, and his Father had punished him by leaving him alone with a chimaera, which was restrained only by a thin leash, just long enough for it to stop short of Draco. He shivered. Yes, defiantly too many experiences.  
  
"Draco!" His father's voice shouted from downstairs and he jumped. What was he doing here?  
  
Draco quickly ran out of his room, but slowed down and straightened his hair and clothes before walking down the stairs. Malfoys never hurried to another person's bidding, other people always hurried at a Malfoy's bidding.  
  
"Yes, father?"  
  
Lucius Malfoy looked at his son and said, "We're going out today. So, go get ready, Draco."  
  
Draco was confused, but he hid it well and just nodded before turning around and walking back upstairs. Where were they going? His father seldom announced things like this; everything he always did was planned days before.  
  
Must have something to with work, Draco thought, something important had to have happened. He shrugged, whatever it was he hoped it had nothing to do with him.

* * *

Harry sighed and shaded his eyes with his hand, trying to block out the glaring sun, as he and the Dursleys and Piers walked around the zoo, stopping every now and then to gaze at an animal exhibit.  
  
As they continued on, Harry licked the slowly starting to melt Popsicle the Dursleys had bought him and watched a gorilla scratching its head, which looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.  
  
It was a very sunny day and the Dursleys had bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop.  
  
Harry had the best morning he'd ever had. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him.  
  
They ate in the restaurant at the zoo, and when Dudley had a fit because his Knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first.  
  
Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.  
  
They entered the reptile house and Harry shivered slightly, goosebumps pebbled his skin as he adjusted to the sudden temperature change, from the humid heat outside to the damp, chill air of the stone structure.  
  
Dudley and Piers immediately bolted away from the Dursleys to try and go find the biggest snake in the zoo.  
  
They ran up to a Boa Constrictor's glass enclosure and pressed their faces against it, their breaths' fogging up the glass.  
  
Harry stood partly away from the rest as he intently watched the snake, he was content to just let it sleep and admire the smooth, dark brown scales that covered the thick muscled coils and blunt head.  
  
But Dudley had a different idea. He turned to his father and whined, "Make it move." Vernon walked closer to the tank and tapped curtly on the front. The snake didn't move and Harry smiled inwardly.  
  
"Do it again!" Dudley commanded loudly, and Vernon once again knocked on the glass. But the snake just laid there, silent and unmoving. Dudley moaned, "This is boring." Then grabbed Piers by the arm and dragged him and his parents off.  
  
Harry sighed and stepped in front of the Constrictor and leaned his arms on the wooded part of the tank, where the glass was set. His eyes followed the snake's twisted body, it reminded him of a Celtic knot.  
  
He felt almost sorry for the serpent. Just lying there day after day, trapped inside a glass cage with only bits of wood and stone to slither over, and people coming to stare at you, tapping on the glass like Vernon had just done. Harry was surprised the snake hadn't died of boredom already.  
  
He was just about to walk away when the snake abruptly raised its head, its filmy eyes staring straight at Harry.  
  
Harry stopped and returned the snake's stare, wondering why the reptile had decided to move. The snake's head swung slowly to the side, then to the other side and then back again.  
  
Harry frowned, puzzled by the snake's behavior. The movement reminded him the book he had read about snake charmers and Cobras. But he hadn't been aware that Constrictors did it too.  
  
He was shaken from his thoughts as the snake suddenly _winked._  
  
Harry's eyes widened. Then he blinked a few times wondering if he needed new glasses. But then snake unwrapped itself and came closer to the front of the tank.  
Harry raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. Then he smiled and winked back. It was more interaction than he had ever had with any human just about.  
  
The snake nodded its head towards the lit window Uncle Vernon was now looking at with his son, and lifted its eyes to the dark ceiling. Its look clearly said, _"I get that all the time."  
_  
Harry smirked and said, "It must be annoying." He wasn't positive if the snake could hear him or even understand him at that, but he really didn't care. He liked the snake and if people thought that talking to one was strange then screw them.  
The snake nodded his head sadly and its head drooped, Harry was sure that if snakes could sigh, then this snake did. "Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked, suddenly conversing with an animal seemed quite normal.  
The snake jabbed his tail at a small plaque attached to the tank. Harry read: **Boa Constrictor, Brazil.  
**  
"Was it nice there?" The Boa Constrictor pointed to the sign again and Harry sighed as he read the rest: **This specimen was bred in captivity.**  
  
"Oh. I'm sorry. Must be lonely. But I never knew my family either, so I sort of know how it feels."  
The snake again bowed its head.  
  
Harry sighed, now feeling very sorry for the snake. It was worse than having a cupboard for a bedroom, being picked on or completely ignored by you family and classmates.  
  
At least he only had to worry about Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up, and he got to visit the rest of the house and sit out in the garden to do his homework or draw.  
  
"Ah, don't worry." Harry murmured to the snake. He was about to say more when a voice shouted behind him, making both him and the Constrictor jump.  
  
**"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T** **BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"**  
  
The Durselys came rushing over, well rushing for them anyway. Vernon and Dudley were too fat to rush and Aunt Petunia considered running to be _'un- ladylike'._  
  
Once Dudley got there, he said, "Out of the way, you," And punched Harry in the stomach, knocking him away from the tank and onto the cold, hard floor.  
  
What happened next shocked everybody, especially Harry. One moment Dudley and Piers were leaned close towards the Boa Constrictor, then they both jumped back with screams of fright.  
  
Harry quickly sat up and gasped, both in surprise and pain. Surprise because the front of the snake's enclosure had disappeared. And pain because it seemed that Dudley had hit him harder than he thought and his ribs hurt, his chest would most likely be bruised later.  
  
The serpent swiftly uncoiled the rest of its body and dropped to the floor. The other visitors in the reptile house started yelling, their panicked shouts bouncing off the stone walls and echoing around the room as they stampeded towards the exits.  
As the Boa Constrictor slithered past him, Harry swore he heard a quiet, hissing voice say, "Brazil, here I come . . . Thanksss, amigo."  
  
The keepers of the reptile house were in a state of shock, as was Petunia. One of the keepers kept repeating, "But the glass, where did it go?" The other just nodded his head.  
  
The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong tea with a shot of whiskey in it, and he continued to apologize over and over again.  
  
Harry held back a snort as he looked at Fatso and Rat Boy, who were pale and shaking, muttering nosense things under their breath. Cowards.  
  
As far as Harry had seen, the snake had only slid around Dudley and Piers's legs before heading outside and to possible freedom. But by the time they were all piled back into the car, both of them had recovered their voices to say that the Constrictor had tried to squeeze them to death.  
  
But worst of all, for Harry anyway, was Piers, who calmed down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"  
  
Vernon waited until was safely out of the house before he rounded on Harry. He grabbed the front of his nephew's over-sized shirt and slammed him against a wall before Harry could even blink.  
  
Vernon then punched Harry, snapping his glasses, as the small boy tried to regain his breath. Vernon let go of Harry's clothes as he backhanded him, sending Harry sprawling on the floor.  
  
"Go --- cupboard---stay---no meals." Uncle Vernon grounded out before he stomped into the living room and fell in to an armchair. Aunt Petunia quickly walked to the kitchen to get Vernon a drink while Dudley smiled wickedly at Harry, who was picking himself up off the floor, before sniggering and walking up to his room.  
  
Quietly and without complaint, Harry Potter opened the small cupboard and closed the door, shutting himself into darkness.

* * *

Walking quietly behind his father, Draco shifted the black velvet bag slung over his shoulder and kept his silver eyes on Lucius's back.  
  
Both held themselves with grace and dignity, something very much out of place in the dark, lurid alley they were currently in.  
  
Quickly glancing to his left, Draco looked into one of the dirty, dust filled window.  
  
Inside on a shelf were human skulls and some strange dark gray ball, which looked like it was made out of wet stone. And there was an odd symbol carved into it.  
  
"Keep up, Draco." Lucius hissed without turning around.  
  
"Yes, father." Draco mumbled and he glared at his father's back as though he could burn holes through Lucius.  
  
Still managing to maintain his arrogant appearance, Lucius sped up his pace and turned down a narrow side alley. Stopping outside an old door, which was hanging loose from one of its hinges, the elder Malfoy tugged his glove on tighter and rapped shortly on the door.  
  
A few seconds later, the wooden entranceway opened slightly and a dark, beady eye, like that of a crow, peeked out. "Wha'?" A voice rasped from behind the door and Draco held back a wince at the rough, uncultured sound.  
  
"I'm here to see Razh." Lucius said quietly and shifted his silver snake head cane under his arm. "We talked the day before Yesterday about an important matter and he said he would be available today." He sneered. "Now, open the door, cur."  
  
The stranger snorted and opened the door wider. "_You _can come in, but the boy cain't. He too little."  
  
Lucius straightened. "My son, can and will come in if I what him to. He is smarter and more clever than you ever dreamed of being. Besides Draco has been around the Dark Arts his whole life, he can handle anything I can." He pointed his cane at the man's chest. "Get out of the way and let us enter."  
  
"Fine, but if pretty boy faints or throws up because he cain't stand severed heads and other body parts, you can deal with Razh." He limped away from the door and walked back into the shadowy store, Lucius and Draco following.  
  
Draco glanced around and raised a pale eyebrow. From what he could see there was nothing worse than he had already seen at Malfoy Manor.  
  
To his left, stood a glass case. There was a withered hand that had the first two fingers missing lying on a dusty pillow, a pair of eyes that had what appeared to be cataracts covering the pupils, a glossy black wand with steel wrapped around the handle, and a skull ring with ruby eyes was in box next to a set of daggers that had dried blood on the blades.  
  
On his right, an old black table had different items on it. A deformed skull with a candle melted on its forehead, a stuffed rat which was solid black except for a pure white stripe down its back, a dull brown box with the scene of a girl being tortured on it, a glass rose with metal thorns studding the stem, and a rusty sickle hung from a hook nailed into the side of the table.  
  
Draco shrugged. It was nothing new for him. His father owned much more terrifying things, and had used some of them on Draco. "Draco, come here."  
  
Turning at his father's cold voice, Draco obeyed. "Yes, sir?" 

"Give me the bag."

Draco grabbed the strap of the bag he had been carrying and removed from his shoulder. He handed to Lucius and as soon as he had the bag, Lucius turned away from his son and started for the very back of the shop. "Stay here, Draco, and don't touch anything."  
  
Idly swaggering around the store, Draco looked up at the only source of light. But swiftly cut his eyes away. He heard someone cackle behind him. "Nasty tain't it?"  
  
Draco frowned at the man that had opened the alleyway door as the twisted being limped up to him.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
The man smiled, showing he only had a few front teeth, which were yellow and horribly crooked. "Tha'." He pointed upward with one of his knobby fingers.  
  
Draco swallowed and looked up again. Hanging directly in the poor sunlight coming in from the tiny window in the ceiling, was a mutilated body, and judging by the size, Draco guessed that it had been a child.  
  
The torso hung from a large meat hook, the arms and legs hung from smaller, but no less sharp, hooks around the torso. It looked like a seriously fucked up mobile.  
  
"Preserving spell?" Draco asked, hiding his revulsion behind his cold, indifferent mask.  
  
"Eh?" The man looked confused.  
  
"So the body doesn't decay." Draco explained with a smirk.  
  
"Oh, I guess. Never really thought 'bout it."  
  
"Bet you don't think a lot." Draco muttered and backed up as he saw his father striding from a back room, minus the black bag.  
  
"We're leaving, Draco." Lucius snapped and swept towards the exit.  
  
Sitting beside the window in the carriage, Draco leaned back and drew a deep breath, glad to be away from Knockturn alley.  
  
His father sat opposite him, muttering quietly, but furiously, under his breath. Draco knew better than to ask, so he sat still the rest of the ride home.  
  
Minutes later, the carriage slowed down to a stop and the doors opened. Lucius climbed out first, then Draco. "Get inside, and go to your room until I call you for dinner." Lucius commanded and Draco quickly did as he said, wondering why his father was so angry.  
  
Closing his bedroom door behind him, Draco leaned against it and sighed. Gods, he really didn't need to have seen that body in the shop.  
  
Just thinking about it made his stomach churn terribly, and the palms of his hands sweat. Gracefully straightening up away from the door, Draco slipped off his robes and flung them over a chair, before collapsing onto his bed.  
Turning over, he stared at the ceiling with his hands behind his head.  
  
Without moving anything but his eyes, Draco looked out his window to see the darkening sky. He hadn't realized it was so late. Dobby would be here soon to tell him dinner was almost ready. And he would trudge downstairs and sit through nearly an hour of cold silence or heated arguments. Closing his eyes, Draco inwardly sighed.  
  
His room was completely dark now, the sun having gone down and tiny stars now dotted the velvety sky like diamonds. Dobby should be here.  
Draco opened his eyes and sat up. Why hadn't his father sent Dobby yet?  
  
He bit his lip worriedly. When something was off schedule, it usually meant problems for Draco. But he couldn't think of anything he had done wrong.  
  
He smiled without humor. Like that ever stopped his father. Draco got punished whenever something didn't go his father's way. Lying back down, Draco Malfoy waited in the dark for his father.  
Why fight the inevitable?

* * *

**A/N:** Well, that's the first part, I hope you enjoyed it. I might be a bit slow on updating, but if you did like the story please be patient because I plan on finishing GL and SD, but I'm not making any concrete promises. Please review, creative criticism welcome.  
  
**Guten Tag** -- _Reine_


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